


Yours in Service

by mousouchuu



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: KniRoun, M/M, Rating May Change, Setting appropriate violence, no beta we die like Matsukawa's dignity, this is absolutely just self-indulgent nonsense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25704076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mousouchuu/pseuds/mousouchuu
Summary: KniRoun setting, pre-everything. Mordred might be catching feelings.Chapter 1 is tame, chapter 2 has some violence and a little spice. Who knows where this is going.
Relationships: Merlin/Mordred (A3!), Minagi Tsuzuru/Sakuma Sakuya
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

“Congratulations on your recent triumph, my lord,” said the court wizard to the young knight. “I understand that you've driven the demons out of that village entirely.”

“Ah, you flatter me. I met some potential talents there, and their assistance was what won the battle,” Mordred replied, looking up from the maps he was studying. 

“If they were so useful, why had they not done it themselves? You are a great knight, well on your way to legend. You only do yourself a disservice by understating your role.” Merlin's voice was soft, leaning close over the back of Mordred's chair. 

Mordred stared more closely at the maps, avoiding the eye contact that would reveal his slightly embarrassed expression.  
“Well, they were inexperienced. They only needed a leader who could show them the finer points of strategy,” he responded. 

“And that was you, my lord. A fine job, as always. Have faith in yourself. One day, you'll lead more than a ragtag band of villagers.” Merlin placed a hand over his, a spark of static jumping between the two. “Do not forget, I am sworn in service to this court, and you are a part of that. Should you find yourself in need of my skills, or even just a listening ear, I am yours.”

…

Those words echoed in Mordred's head for far longer than he ever would have admitted. It was shameful, he thought, how much of his mind was given over to thoughts of the wizard. The world is made up of humans to protect and demons to slay, and a mage of that caliber is neither. Besides that, Mordred's life was sworn to the cause, and that left little room for thoughts of mismatched hands scarred by blade and spell, eyes like jewels, or subtle curves and lines hidden by robes. But persistently, they took up every spare crevice of his mind, and he felt himself on the verge of seeking them out. 

…

“I'll depart at first light. Until the path is cleared, I will not return.” Mordred's voice rang with conviction, but his heart was uneasy. The quest was to deal with a horde of bandits that had taken up robbing trade caravans along a particular road, and they had been known to become violent when resisted. While it was vital to the safety of the kingdom, there was nothing worse than fighting bandits. Demons were a tough foe, but they could be slain with no remorse. Bandits, however awful they were, were human in the end. 

Dreading the next day's mission, Mordred was in his quarters preparing supplies when there came a knock at the door.  
“Come in,” he called out to the visitor. 

“Thank you, my lord,” said Merlin, entering and closing the door behind him. “You seemed troubled at the meeting earlier. I thought I might ease that.” He took the spare seat beside Mordred.

“That's very kind of you,” Mordred responded, “but I'm afraid my troubles only lie ahead.” 

“Then share the burden with me. It's my duty to assist in any way possible. The least I can do is hear your worries.” Merlin's voice was gentle, offering comfort.

Mordred hesitated. This, frankly, was one of his worries. He watched his words carefully, trying to think only of the mission ahead.  
“It's my assignment. Bandits. I know they have to be dealt with, but... they're people all the same.”

“Kind as well as skilled,” Merlin murmured. “Truly, you are a fine knight.”

“Please, don't say those things so easily.” Mordred finally looked the mage in the eye, looking for any trace of insincerity and finding nothing. “I don't know if I can live up to them.”

“I don't say that lightly, you know,” said the wizard, taking the knight's hand in his own. “I've been observing you on your uncle's behalf... but I've come to appreciate you on my own.” 

Mordred turned a shade of pink at hearing that. “So that's why you've been around so much.” He didn't object to the touch. “Well, I can't say I've minded seeing you more often.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow at that. “Perhaps, then, upon your return, would you come find me? If we're of the same mind, I'd appreciate your company.” With those words, he lifted Mordred's hand to his lips. 

The knight bit his tongue in an attempt to hold back surprise. “I believe we're of the same mind indeed, but why wait? Here we are.”

“My lord, my dear- if I may be so bold- let this promise give you the strength to return quickly. As for tonight, I must prepare a charm for your safety.” As he rose from his seat, he drew close enough to almost touch noses, but continued to move towards the door with only a chuckle. “You'll just have to come home safe, then.”

And as suddenly as he arrived, Merlin was gone, and Mordred was stunned. 

…

In the morning, only a few villagers and castle servants arrived to see him off at the drawbridge, far from the fanfare of one of the more senior knights leaving on a great quest. Mordred had already mounted his horse and was on the verge of leaving when one last voice called out to him.

“Leaving without this? After I spent all night working on it?” Merlin was waiting in the shadows at the bridge's end, holding a small amulet. 

“You weren't leaving me much choice. Sun's rising quickly.” Mordred quipped, secretly relieved that the wizard seemed intent on keeping his end of the promise. He rode up along side him, looking down. As Merlin offered up the amulet, Mordred took his hand along with it, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. 

“I am sworn in service to this kingdom. You included.” And with a bright grin, the knight urged his horse onward, into the forest, praying for a swift return.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Most of that blood wasn't mine!"
> 
> Mordred returns to the castle injured.

“If you will not live by the law, then you may die by my blade. The choice is yours,” said Mordred to the bandit. He didn't know the man's name, and frankly, he didn't want to know. It was difficult enough to be the lawbringer, eradicating the gang that had plagued the trade route in recent days. For all the horrible things they'd done, they were people. Maybe if he didn't think too hard, he could imagine the bandit was some monster.

In that moment of hesitation, the last bandit standing charged at him, swinging his axe wildly. Mordred raised his blade to parry just a second too late, and he felt the axe graze his neck and down his chest. Adrenaline rushing through his veins was enough to fight through the pain, and he drove his sword through his enemy with little difficulty. These men weren't well trained, only stubborn and willing to do anything to take what they could. A shame that meant murder and robbery. 

Cursing under his breath, Mordred did what he could to stop the bleeding before the shock wore off. It wouldn't be life-threatening, but it would definitely hurt like hell. 

Still, it was mission complete. The path was clear, and the return trip was uneventful, though he winced with every bump. 

…

“Sir Mordred, welcome home!”  
“You've returned!”  
“Welcome back, my lord!”  
The various residents of the castle greeted Mordred warmly as he passed, and he responded in turn, trying to conceal his wounds. No need to alarm them. 

“Would you be so kind as to alert the Table of my return?” he asked one of the servants. “I have some business to attend to.”

“Of course, my lord.” The servant bowed and hurried off to deliver the message, and Mordred returned to his quarters. 

…

He winced as he peeled his torn and bloodied shirt off, examining the wound in a mirror.   
“Damn,” he muttered, “this will be a pain to bandage.” Reaching for a damp cloth to begin caring for the wound, he paused as there came a knock at the door. 

The visitor didn't wait for a response, as the sound of the door opening quickly followed.   
“Were you really planning on taking care of that yourself?” came a familiar voice. 

“Huh? Well, yes. It's not as bad as it looks.” Mordred turned to see his guest. “And hello to you too.” 

Merlin strode into the room, taking that as an invitation in. “Really now, the poor man you sent said you were covered in blood, of course we'd worry.”

“Most of it wasn't mine!” Mordred protested, turning back to the mirror to see what he was doing. 

“Allow me to help you.” The wizard approached from behind, placing a hand on his bare shoulder. It felt like less of an offer and more of a command, sending a shiver down Mordred's spine. “It'll heal much faster my way.”

Mordred nodded silently, deciding it was better not to argue. He turned back around and passed Merlin the rag. With a gentle touch, he cleaned the blood from the knight's injury, running from his neck to just above his navel. 

“They really got you, hmm?” Merlin commented, his voice soft. “If you had left without my token, you would have been much worse off.” 

“I... thank you for that.” Mordred almost protested, knowing his own capabilities in battle, but perhaps that charm really had changed fate. What did he know about enchantment anyway? 

“You're welcome.” Merlin reached up to brush the hair from Mordred's face, his touch lingering. “Now, this is going to hurt, but be good for me.” 

Already a bit flushed from the intimacy of the situation, Mordred didn't even have time to react before Merlin brought a single finger to the upper end of the wound, slowly dragging it downward. Sparks trailed, and Mordred felt as though his skin would burn away, but at the same time, it had a strangely pleasant tingle to it. Still, he couldn't avoid crying out in pain, though he tried to keep it quiet. 

“There,” whispered Merlin, gripping his shoulders as he turned him back to face the mirror. The wound was completely healed, leaving only a pale scar where it once was. “A lovely reminder to be more careful out there.” He leaned over Mordred's shoulder, boldly kissing the scar's tip. 

That electrifying sensation was enough to break through Mordred's composure. He spun back around suddenly, taking Merlin's jaw in his hands and roughly bringing their lips together. Merlin smirked, leaning into it while sliding his hands down to Mordred's hips, lifting him backward to sit on the chest of drawers below the mirror. When his lips parted for a breath, Mordred took the opportunity to probe deeper. His hands grasped at Merlin's robes, pulling him closer. Entwined, the two explored the unfamiliar territory until Merlin pulled back. 

“Well, that wasn't what I came here for, but I can't say I'm displeased.”

“I should certainly hope not. You were going out of your way to tempt me,” Mordred replied.

“Well, perhaps I was. A battle-scarred knight in a state of undress is a tempting thing indeed.” Merlin's usual cryptic expression held a hint of amusement. “Still, I actually only stopped by to deal with your injury. I'm afraid I must take my leave.”

“Ah, of course. I'm sure you're busy with... wizard things.” Mordred tried to regain his composure quickly, with little success.

“Something of that sort. Call on me later, would you? If you'd like to continue where we left off,” Merlin replied, smiling enigmatically. 

“I will!” Mordred called out to him as he left the room, and the door swung shut. Hesitantly raising a hand to his new scar, Mordred found himself alone with his thoughts again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This doesn't seem real, but Merlin doesn't waste time with indirect words. If he likes you, he likes you, if he doesn't, then he doesn't care. And coming from a history of court etiquette and layered meanings... that's confusing.

“Call on me later, would you?”  
The words echoed in Mordred's head. It wasn't as if he wouldn't like to, but it still seemed... improper? Intrusive? To call on the king's mage simply to enjoy his company. Even with a standing invitation, the knight felt uncomfortable with the idea of visiting without a purpose. It was several days before he realized he had one all along. 

He turned the amulet over in his hand. It was smooth, unadorned metal, with a faint inscription in some foreign alphabet. If it had truly protected him before, then he should be grateful. But it didn't have the almost tangible aura of a magical artifact. How odd... Mordred gathered his courage and knocked at the door of the wizard's chambers. 

The door swung open on its own, revealing Merlin casually seated in an armchair, reading a thick book.   
“I was wondering when you'd come by. I was starting to think I'd offended you somehow.”

“No, of course not!” Mordred exclaimed defensively. “I just didn't want to intrude.”

Merlin smiled, closing the book. “You are always welcome here. Have I not made it clear enough that I'd like to see you more often?”

Mordred could feel the heat rise in his face as he remembered past conversations. “Well, yes, but...” he stammered. 

“But nothing. I will gladly accept your company anytime.” Merlin interrupted his thought with a beckoning gesture. “Now, come over here and join me.”

Without hesitation, Mordred seated himself next to the wizard in a matched chair. He didn't seem like the type to have company often, but then again, he had already revealed other surprising traits, so what's one more? And what did Mordred know about interior decorating anyway? He pushed that thought to the side and finally got to the point he'd been thinking about before. 

“Aside from visiting, I'm here to return your amulet. It was a great comfort to have its protection. I thank you.” Mordred spoke with a bit more formality than perhaps was necessary. “It's an interesting piece- I can't feel its aura like with similar enchantments.” He offered the charm to Merlin.

“A keen eye. Yes, I layered a concealment spell over it. If your enemies had a mage among them who could detect enchanted items, it would have made you more of a target. A bit counterintuitive for a protective spell, no?” Merlin smirked, as if congratulating himself for his own cleverness. “Keep it. I'd like to know you're a bit safer.”

“Oh... thank you for that.” Mordred should have considered that, he thought. Though he was far from an expert on enchantments, he did understand enough theory to know what would be useful to him. “Are you certain you want me to have this? It must be valuable.”

Merlin nodded. “Absolutely. I could likely make more, but frankly, you matter to me, more so than the others.”

Mordred was generally easy to read, but then especially, he was like an open book with the page turned to surprise and embarrassment.   
“Ah... forgive me, I simply didn't expect you to be so... direct in your affection.”

“I see no point in playing at indirect courtship,” Merlin commented. “If we've already established as much, why should I waste my words instead of simply speaking my mind? I gather you're as traditional as ever, and I'll accept that- actually, it's quite charming. The knight who tries to conduct himself like in the old stories... is it really so surprising I'd take an interest in someone like that?”

Straight to the heart. Mordred turned away, flustered. The others thought of him as idealistic and naive, he knew. But he held fast to his beliefs in defending the weak, seeking good, and creating a better kingdom. When the common opinion was mildly insulting, to hear it considered a positive thing was... confusing, to say the least.   
“An unusual opinion,” Mordred murmured, “But one I'm glad you hold. After all, I'd still like to try out the old standards of winning a heart.”

Merlin smiled and leaned over, placing his hand over Mordred's, still holding the amulet.   
“You've already won mine, but if you so desire, I'll gladly accept your affection in whatever form it may come. I can't say I've ever been pursued before, so it would be a welcome change of pace.”

The emerald-clad knight stared at the ceiling, painted with constellations. Perhaps Merlin liked the sky? How should he approach this, anyways? “Though I'm not sure how to apply it to real life, I'll do my best to be your fairytale suitor. My first duty will always be to the kingdom, but you are the most important part of it. I'll fight in your honor. Is that alright with you?”

“That's very noble of you. You know, I have always admired your loyalty... I think this would be a better world with more men like you leading it.” Merlin leaned closer and lifted the knight's chin to look him in the eye.

A breath caught in Mordred's throat. “Perhaps one day, it will be my turn,” he finally managed, “but right now, I am glad to be a knight of such an illustrious order. After all, it was your orders from the king that brought you closer, was it not?” Being caught like this was not how he had ever envisioned romance for himself, but it wasn't necessarily bad. Just... odd. He felt like prey under the wizard's gaze, as a cat can go from hunting a rabbit to being snatched by a hawk. A cat, at least, had as much of a chance as the hawk to turn the situation around. 

“That it was... but it's that noble humility I admire about you.” Merlin released him with a chuckle. “Now, for all I said you're welcome to be here, I do have some work to do, so I can't be much of a host right now.”

The knight stood quickly with an apologetic bow. “I'll take my leave, then.”

Before he could quite leave, Merlin called out once more. “If you're so set on winning my heart, why not try something with a plan? I'll free up my schedule for you anytime.”

Mordred gripped the doorknob. It would be the sensible way, making a plan. He could do it. He had permission, and that's more than anyone usually had in such a situation. “...right! I'll come up with something.” 

Flashing a bright smile, the knight left, hiding his uncertainty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one! I realized pretty quickly that the beginning was a terrible start for a serial, since it was meant to be a one-shot... but Mordred wanting to start from a step back gives me room to work. 
> 
> I feel like I'm getting a better grasp on Merlin's characterization, which is surprisingly fun to write.

**Author's Note:**

> what's up, I have brainrot and it told me to write MerlMord without evil things happening
> 
> (but there's totally evil things happening, Mordred just has No Clue)
> 
> this goes out to the Merlin Arc crew and Adults Table, love you guys!
> 
> twt: @mousouchuuu or if you would like affection from a cute boy @sakusakucares


End file.
